


Forbidden Fruit of Idunn's Tree

by Lunik



Category: Thor (2011)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Community: norsekink, Eating Disorders, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-03
Updated: 2012-05-03
Packaged: 2017-11-04 18:03:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/396670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunik/pseuds/Lunik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki may not understand his own mind, but the one thing he knows is he's not doing it for attention.  Thor is willing to pay attention to him anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forbidden Fruit of Idunn's Tree

Thor is seventeen, and so is Loki, and Thor has not seen his brother eat anything in two days. It's not that he's been watching closely or anything, but he noticed last night that Loki's plate, though the meal was decimated, was no less full when he left the table than when he sat down. It was weird, but when he thought back to the night before he couldn't remember seeing Loki actually put anything in his mouth then either.

And this morning Loki decided to skip breakfast, and Thor has decided to do his big brotherly duty. He finds Loki sitting at the open downstairs window, watching the lawn.

"There you are!" he says, and Loki jumps, startled. He glares, like he always does when someone disturbs his composure, then turns his head back to the lawn.

"Here I am," he agrees. 

Thor looks over his shoulder to see what's so interesting, but sees nothing but empty garden. At the other end of the lawn, under the gazebo their father is reading the paper, but Loki isn't even looking at him. "What are you looking at?" he asks, because he hasn't learned any better.

Loki shrugs, listlessly. "Watching the grass grow."

"That sounds boring."

"It is."

Thor is waiting for Loki to ask what he wants, like he always used to, as if Thor needs a reason to approach him. It's why Thor always makes sure he has a reason to approach him, or else leaves him alone. But Loki doesn't ask, so Thor smacks him in the arm with the apple he's brought.

"Here. You shouldn't skip breakfast," he says.

Loki looks down at the apple, surprised, and back up at Thor with an uncertain smile and a raised eyebrow. "You've... brought me an apple?"

"You didn't eat last night either."

Loki's face turns blank, the smile vanishing at light speed. "I wasn't hungry. I'm not now."

Thor rolls his eyes and attacks, leaning heavily on his brother and thrusting the apple awkwardly in his face. "Don't care! You're eating it!"

Loki splutters angrily and fights back. "Get off, you lunatic!" The tussle is enough to dislodge him from his seat in the window, and by the time he manages to throw Thor off the apple has wound up in Loki's hands. Thor grins.

"You eat that, little brother, or I'm sitting on your chest and making you!"

Loki stares. "You're certifiable, you know that? Fine! Okay I'll eat it! Mmm, delicious apple." He raises the apple to his mouth, and Thor notices that he stops to smell its skin like a starving man before he suddenly looks over Thor's shoulder. "Hey... isn't that Dad's friend Heimdall?" he says curiously.

Thor turns to look. It is Heimdall - he's crossing the lawn to speak to their father. Thor is about to ask why he's supposed to care when Loki moves in the corner of his eye, slinging the apple so it flies past his head and through the open window. In the same movement Loki drops to the floor in front of Thor's feet, ducking his head under the windowsill. As the apple hits the side of Heimdall's head, Thor is left standing in the window staring at him, and there is no one else visible from the garden. Loki laughs out loud, and crawls from the room when he hears shouting from outside.

Thor is so distracted with Not Snitching for the rest of the afternoon that he doesn't ever notice that Loki didn't eat the apple.

\---

Loki is fifteen, Thor is sixteen, and Loki has begun to understand what it means for two 'brothers' to be so close together in age. There is not quite six months between them, and their parents are both as blonde as Thor. Like any adolescent with a big truth to swallow, Loki has begun to push on the boundaries of his family's love.

When he was fourteen, he thought it was boundless.

Now Thor, baffled by Loki's behaviour and curious about its cause, stands outside the door of their father's study as plywood does little enough to muffle the noise that it might as well not be there. Loki dragged Thor into his latest act of delinquent chaos, made sure they were equally guilty, but Father didn't look at Thor twice. He just pulled Loki by the collar of his shirt, stumbling into the study. The door has been closed for twenty minutes. "For pity's sake, boy!" he roars, every word as clear as if he were speaking to Thor. "You could have really done it this time! Every day with you, I'm just waiting for someone to tell me you've finally crossed the line. Loki, your cousin Freya could have been _blinded_ , don't you understand? One of these days you're going to do something that can't be taken back!"

Silence is the only answer, but though Thor is stuck on the other side of the door he can see the mulish blank look on Loki's face. Thor's stomach roils uncomfortably, and he wonders why Loki can never just _apologise_ , and mean it. Apologies always come easy to Loki, but they always mean the exact same thing - _sorry I got caught. I'll try not to let it happen again_. And Thor has tried to be patient with his idiot brother, but how hard would it be to be sorry for the right reason? They really _had_ almost hurt Freya this time, and Father is right. Loki should just get over himself.

"Well, boy? Don't you have anything to say for yourself?"

The pause is just exactly long enough. Thor imagines Father has just opened his mouth to speak again when Loki takes his chance. "I'm sorry, Father. I won't do it again."

Thor doesn't need to see him to know that his eyes are steady, meeting Father's and looking about as sorry as he sounds. He groans, frustrated.

Father sighs, a sound Thor almost misses. "More lies, Loki?" he asks softly, and Loki doesn't reply. Eventually the door opens and Thor scrambles to look like he wasn't listening as Father walks out with a face like thunder. Loki follows, slouching out without looking at Thor. Father stops, and waves the both of them away. "Get out of this house. And, Loki, don't come home tonight."

Thor's stomach drops, but Loki rolls his eyes. "Great," he says. "Can I go?"

He walks away without waiting for an answer and Thor, looking nervously at their father, follows. Loki will spend another night sleeping on the threadbare couch of one of his friends, Brock or Tirie or Svad, the friends that shoplift and smoke weed and talk about things that make Thor nervous. The friends that Thor's positive will end up in prison or dead before twenty, or maybe they're already twenty. They'll drag Loki down with them before he reaches that age.

Loki doesn't look at him, does nothing to acknowledge Thor's existence as he leaves the house.

\---

Thor is eight and Loki is seven, and they are neither of them aware that today is the last time they will see their mother. Thor is at the kitchen table swinging his muddy football shoes and watching his mother and brother baking. Mother is measuring out the ingredients while Loki peels apples and eats the skins while she's looking away. Every so often he hands some peelings to Thor, who cheerfully throws them back at him. His aim is getting better each time, but every time he gets one down the back of Loki's collar Loki just shakes it out the bottom of his shirt.

So occupied, it's a few minutes before either of them realises that Mother's hands have stopped moving. "Ma?" Loki asks uncertainly. "You okay? You forgot all about the cinnamon." He points at the recipe book with its broken spine, unnecessarily. Both he and Mother know the recipe by rote now. "It's s'posed to be half a teaspoon."

Mother starts like she's waking up and turns around. Her eyes are too bright, and so is her smile. "Of course, my darling. How could I forget?"

Reassured, Loki grins. "I've finished the apples. Can I smush the walnuts?"

"No, it's my turn to smush the walnuts!" Thor chimes in. He doesn't care so much for the walnuts, just for the fact that Loki got to do them last time. Mother smiles, strangely fragile, and divides the small pile of walnuts in two.

"There. You can both do them now." Loki darts for the wooden spoon on the countertop, and Thor grabs it off him and sticks out his tongue. Loki glowers for two seconds before turning and picking up the rolling pin. Thor realises way too late that a rolling pin is far better for crushing walnuts than a wooden spoon. Mother laughs at the display and presses a sympathetic kiss to his brow. "My boys."

Everything has to stop for a bit, because Father is home and Thor and Loki have to kiss his cheek. Loki keeps hold of the rolling pin so Thor can't even steal it. Father kisses Mother's cheek and Mother calls him _Darling_ and he goes to his study and then everyone can carry on baking. It's Loki's very favourite caramel apple loaf, so he's smiling. And Mother's smiling too.

"You know, my darling boys," she says, "you know that I will always love you." And she holds them both close and neither of them understand why. Loki reaches around her to steal one of the caramels she's already measured out. She taps his knuckles, and presents him with a slice of apple instead.

That night, while Thor and Loki are asleep, she leaves them both a note and closes the back door as quietly as she can.

\---

Loki is seventeen and Thor is eighteen, and Loki even has to admit to himself that he's fucking hungry. He's losing weight and he couldn't care less. His beloved inverted-commas _father_ hasn't noticed yet so there's no reason to care. And he's grown to enjoy the fact that it hurts.

But he's on the bus home and he didn't get a seat so he's stuck standing. And he didn't think he was all _that_ hungry yet, but... he's not exactly steady on his feet either. And Thor, who got the last seat, one of the ones that are supposed to be saved for old people and pregnant people and brothers who are falling over, Thor is staring at him. Loki grips the handholds and sees his tendons stand out under the skin.

"I thought you were done with this shit," Thor growls. Like Loki put long hours into thinking up ways to irritate Thor and came up with this. He rolls his eyes.

"I am done with it," he says. "I promise, I haven't touched hard liquor in a month."

Thor scowls. "You don't have to be sarcastic."

"But it's so much fun." The bus gives a jolt, a ripple in the motion of the traffic and Loki wraps his arm around the bar.

If he's hoping Thor won't notice, he's disappointed. "What are you even hoping to gain?"

Loki laughs. "Yes. Gain is exactly the point here."

"Why didn't you eat with us yesterday?"

"Because you were the one cooking." He opens his eyes, and Thor is glaring. "Svad and I stopped at a chip shop on the way home. You're blowing this out of proportion, Thor."

There's an odd look in Thor's eyes, and it makes Loki's stomach lurch to realise his brother's on the edge of tears. "Svadilfari wasn't at school yesterday, Loki. All your friends are stoners."

Except he can't possibly be tearing up. Loki amuses himself by imagining that he's just hallucinating, which is stupid because he ate less than twenty four hours ago. He's not lying about the chips, he just made sure Svad ate most of them. "Spying on me, Thor?" he asks. "You know, if you're so desperate to look after me you could offer me your seat."

"Why?" Thor shoots back. "Are you pregnant?"

Loki smiles because that's what he does when he's angry. "It's Svad's baby. I was hoping you'd be godfa--" It's only the normal sway of the bus in motion, but Loki feels himself pitching and he knows he's going down.

He barely even stumbles though before he's fetching up against Thor's chest. His brother catches him by the elbows and manhandles him around to dump him in his vacated seat. He'd like to play at some semblance of dignity, but he melts into the foam-and-felt bus seat like none of his bones work anymore. He grunts something at Thor, and Thor presses something into his hand.

An apple. Of-fucking-course. He bites into it without giving himself time to think. The skin smells of summer, of being so young he just didn't give a shit, and the juice that bursts against his tongue is sweeter than it is tart. Greasy chips wrapped in paper were forever ago.

"Where the fuck did this come from?" he asks, slightly muffled around the mouthful of fruit. 

"It was in my pocket," says Thor. He sounds relieved.

_Who the fuck keeps apples in their pockets,_ Loki wants to ask, but he doesn't. His mouth is too full right now.

**Author's Note:**

> Weirdly enough, this is set in the same modern AU as [this fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/279765). The stories, though, are entirely unrelated.


End file.
